The Fading Dusk

by Melissa Giorgio

  A ward? I clutched the word, knowing it was important. Someone had placed a protection spell around my cell to protect me from Bantheir. The others—Leonid, Vernen, Aden, Elyse—had touched the bars without harm. The spell was meant for Bantheir alone.

  That’s why Leonid ordered me back into my cell. To save me. But how had they known Bantheir would come from me?

  What did he want with me?

  “Very clever,” Bantheir was muttering. “First the wards around the prison to hide you from me, and now this, to keep me from getting to you.”

  “Around the prison, too?”

  He glowered at me, annoyed I was having trouble keeping up. “Yes, girl, wards! They didn’t want me finding you. If you hadn’t freed the Essence from the binding I’d placed on it, I still wouldn’t have known your location!”

  The lark. There had been a spell on that, too. When I’d opened the compartment, I’d inadvertently broken it. Had Leonid known? Is that why he’d rushed out with the Essence in hand?

  Had he died in his attempt to fool Bantheir?

  Bantheir’s eyes traveled to the spot over my chest, where the lark normally hung, and he frowned. “Where is it? Where’s the necklace, Irina?”

  I felt a rush of relief. If he was still looking for it, that meant he hadn’t found Leonid yet.

  “Irina, where’s the necklace?” he shouted, coming as close to the bars as he dared. “And the stone inside—where is it?”

  “I don’t have it!” I don’t know why I answered him; I’d meant to keep quiet, to continue stalling him, but the words slipped out before I could stop them. Was he controlling me? Was anything I was doing or saying or thinking really me? The fog in my head, the pain in my stomach—all of that was Bantheir’s doing, I realized now.

  I’d been his puppet from the start.

  Bantheir’s expression darkened. “Don’t have it? Then where is it?”

  To my right, I could see Vernen stirring. If I could distract Bantheir, then maybe Vernen could sneak up and attack him. The idea of Vernen hurting or even killing Bantheir made me nauseous, but I fought against it, knowing it was nothing more than magic. My loyalty toward the magician had been replaced by hot fury—how dare he manipulate me! “I don’t know. It’s not here!” I said as Vernen rose shakily to his feet. There was a cut over his left eyebrow, and bright red blood flowed freely into his eye. Pulling a knife from his belt, Vernen began quietly walking toward us. “The Essence is gone, Bantheir—”

  “Who took it? Him?” Bantheir whirled around to see Vernen on his feet. Caught off guard, Vernen let out a roar and charged forward, gripping the knife tightly.

  Even from here, I could see the raw desperation in Vernen’s eyes.

  BANTHEIR WAVED HIS HANDS AND more dark streams of magic flowed from his injured fingers, striking Vernen viciously. I watched, horrified, as blood spurted from numerous wounds in his legs and arms. He let out a muffled cry and began falling over, but Bantheir caught him, dropping Vernen’s body down on the bench. The magician leaned over him with a terrifying look on his face as Vernen’s blood splattered onto the floor like the gentle patter of rain against a rooftop. Plucking the knife from Vernen’s fingers, Bantheir held it up to the soldier’s throat. “Where is the Essence?!” He pressed the blade against the skin and a small line of red appeared, staining the blade.

  “Bantheir, stop!” I screamed, rattling the bars. “Leave him alone; he doesn’t have it!”

  “But he knows where it is.” Bantheir lowered his face so it was inches from Vernen. “Don’t you, soldier?”

  Despite the threat of the knife against his neck, Vernen spat in Bantheir’s face and said, “I’ll never tell you, magician.” He chuckled quietly. “And you’ll never find it, either. You lose, Bantheir.”

  Bantheir reared back, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Wrong answer.”

  In that moment, I saw his expression change and realized just how deadly serious Bantheir was. “Don’t, Bantheir, don’t—”

  Ignoring me, he lifted the blade and drew it across Vernen’s neck in one quick, solid motion. Vernen’s eyes bulged in panic as a river of blood began gushing from the wound, down his throat and staining the front of his shirt.

  “NO!” I screamed. “VERNEN! NO!” As I continued shrieking, he struggled to breathe, to live, and then—

  His lifeless blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing as his body stilled altogether.

  Inhuman howls erupted from my mouth—no words, just pure grief. I stared at Vernen, willing him to move, to breathe, to blink, but he was gone. Vernen was gone.

  I moaned, slumping to the floor. Tears flowed freely down my face, dripping into my lap. Over his shoulder, Bantheir snapped, “Be quiet, Irina!”

  “How could you?” I sobbed. “You killed him! How could you!”

  “I said be quiet!” he shouted, releasing magic from his clenched fists. It exploded in a rainbow of color, and waves crashed against the walls. The prison shook again and part of me wondered if the ceiling would come crashing down, crushing me.

  I didn’t care.

  Bantheir rummaged through Vernen’s clothes. I watched in revulsion. It wasn’t bad enough that he’d killed him, now he was robbing him, too? The Essence wasn’t there, why didn’t he understand that? But when he pulled the shiny silver key from Vernen’s pocket, I realized what he wanted.

  I backed away from the door, throwing my hands in front of me as if I could protect myself from his wrath. “No, you can’t,” I said. “I won’t come out.”

  He walked over to me, blue eyes burning into mine despite my efforts to look away. “Yes, you will. Take the key and open the door, Irina.” He held it up as he avoided touching the bars.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  His eyes narrowed and pain lashed out in my head, momentarily blinding me. I crashed to the floor, clutching my head in my hands, and screamed. Writhing on the floor, my limbs jutting out in different directions, I was certain my head would shatter.

  After an eternity of agony, the pain subsided. With a choked sob, I lifted my heavy, aching head to see Bantheir standing over me, dangling the key in the air. “I could do this all day, but I’m not sure you can. Open the door, Irina.”

  Hot tears streaked down my cheeks as I stumbled to my feet and held out my hand. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t last a second time against the assault inside my head.

  I took the key, placed it in the lock and turned it, the door swinging open with a loud creak. Bantheir smiled, as if he planned on devouring me the moment I stepped outside the safety of my cell. Maybe he would. He’d killed Vernen. It was my turn next.

  My eyes flicked to Vernen’s unmoving body and I steeled my resolve. He can’t have me, not without a fight. Bracing myself, I tensed my muscles and shot out of the cage, veering left, away from Bantheir.

  All it took was one clap of his hands and I went careening into the wall, smashing against it with a loud whoosh as all the breath escaped my lungs. My vision swam and I had little time to recover before Bantheir flipped me over, pressing my back into the wall.

  His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and I looked away quickly, afraid he would trap me in another spell that would make me obedient. But why bother, when he could just destroy me from within my mind?

  He ran a hand stained red with Vernen’s blood across my face, tenderly, and I shuddered with revulsion. I strained to get away. I didn’t want his skin on mine, poisoning me. The man who had taken care of me for thirteen years was dead, replaced by a monster that held no regard for human life.

  That muddled feeling returned, draping my body like a heavy blanket. He was trying to turn me to his side again, to become his mindless little follower who never questioned his dark acts and truly believed in his innocence. I gritted my teeth, hating the girl I’d become thanks to his magic. No wonder Leonid had been so frustrated with me—he must have thought I was both blind and stupid to ignore what was right in front of my face.

&
nbsp; But now Vernen’s lifeless body was mere feet from me, reminding me of what Bantheir was capable of. He’d killed and he’d killed, all in his stupid quest to become immortal.

  “Why?” I choked out, managing to angle my face away from his hand. He shifted slightly and the knife he still carried in his left hand—the one he’d used to murder Vernen—pricked against my right thigh. As the spell’s power increased, commanding me to obey Bantheir, I focused on the spot where the blade met my skin. It was small, but it prevented me from losing myself.

  “Why what, sweetheart?” He was back to speaking in a calming tone, as if his soft words could erase the blood he’d spilled. Reaching up, Bantheir tucked a curl behind my ear, dipping his face lower so we were eye-to-eye. “Why do I want the Essence?”

  “Why do you want to become immortal?”

  His eyes flashed, pleased by my question. “Ah, so you know that much. Who doesn’t want the chance to live forever?”

  “I don’t,” I said boldly. I shifted my thigh, ever so slightly, the blade pressing harder against my skin. A warm trickle of blood escaped, staining my pants.

  He laughed, a cruel sound that twisted my heart in fear. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not going to live through the night.”

  I jerked away from him instinctively, and with the absence of the pain in my thigh, I felt his spell closing in on me. “W-What? What do you mean?”

  “You’re going to sacrifice your life for mine,” Bantheir said. “You’re the final piece in the spell—aren’t you honored? Tonight, it comes to an end. Your life, for my immortality.” With his face so close, all I could focus on were his light-blue eyes. They whispered commands, telling me to obey. Telling me it made sense to give my life for Bantheir. He had sacrificed so much for me, after all.

  I could feel myself slipping and knew if I wanted to completely free myself from Bantheir’s control, I’d have to do something drastic.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I slammed my leg forward, directly into the knife. The blade slid in easily, like a fork into jelly, and a fiery ache pierced my leg, causing me to scream in agony. Cursing, Bantheir made to yank the knife out, but I caught his hand with both of mine, gripping tightly. The pain cleared my head, made me see and think clearly again.

  “Bantheir,” I hissed as we struggled for control of the knife, “I will never help you become immortal.”

  “Stupid girl!” With his free hand, he hit me hard across the face and my head snapped back, hitting the wall.

  Dizzy, I started laughing. Stupid Bantheir. My body was bruised and bleeding, but the more damage he inflicted, the more his spell faded.

  And now that I knew, I’d never let him claim me again.

  Never.

  Rage twisted his features; he wanted to kill me but couldn’t, not if he wanted to perform his sick immortality ritual. I knew I had no chance of escaping, but at least I wouldn’t go willingly.

  “You damn girl—”

  “IRINA!!”

  My blood froze in my veins at the sound of an achingly familiar voice. He’d never said my name, my real name, but I knew who it was, all the same.

  He could not be here.

  I could not lose him too.

  Before I could start screaming for him to leave, Leonid charged into the room. He took one look at me pressed against the wall, Bantheir’s hand on the dagger with my sticky, warm blood coating his fingers, and hurled a knife straight at the magician. Bantheir had no time to react and the blade sunk deep into his right shoulder.

  Letting out a shout of pain, Bantheir took a few stumbling steps back. “Get away from her,” Leonid snarled in a deep tone of voice I’d never heard him use before. His thick brows were lowered over his flashing dark eyes, and every bit of him radiated anger as he took in my torn and bloodied form. “So help me, I will kill you—”

  “Funny, your friend over there said the same thing, and look at what’s happened to him,” Bantheir said, clutching his shoulder with his left hand.

  Leonid turned his head and his words stumbled to a halt as he took in Vernen’s prone form. Paling, he shook his head rapidly. “N-No. Vern. Vern!”

  Heart breaking, I was so intent on watching Leonid that I didn’t notice Bantheir wave his hand and whisper a spell under his breath until it was too late.

  He moved too quickly for me to react. I couldn’t call out a warning as another bolt of magic flashed from Bantheir’s fingers and hit Leonid square in the chest.

  TIME SLOWED.

  The magic was multicolored, flashing from red to white to yellow to black. I watched, helplessly, as it collided with Leonid’s chest, knowing I was about to lose him, too.

  But then the magic did something peculiar. It hit Leonid—I saw it flattening his coat against his lean chest, knocking him over in the process—but then it bounced back. Suddenly, the red-white-yellow-black blast was flying past me again, this time in the opposite direction, causing the curls to dance around my face.

  It hit an unsuspecting Bantheir, sending the magician careening backward. He hit the wall next to my cell and kept going, landing somewhere outside. He could have landed in the slums for all I cared; my attention was solely riveted on Leonid. Limping, my leg screaming with pain each time I took a step, I went to where he lay, motionless on the ground. My heart plummeted as my eyes burned with tears. If I had lost him too…

  Groaning, Leonid let loose a string of curses as his eyes fluttered open. The profanity was the single most beautiful thing I’d ever heard in my life. Ignoring the knife still protruding from my thigh, I collapsed on the ground and threw my arms around his neck as he struggled into a sitting position. “Leonid!”

  His arms went around me, pulling me tightly to him. “Irina.”

  I didn’t know when we had become so comfortable with touching, when it had felt so right, but at that moment, I never wanted to let him go. “I thought you died.” I wept against his neck. “I thought I’d just watched him kill you, too!”

  His voice was low and shaky as he whispered back, “I’m all right…”

  I thought about the magic flying backward, like it had bounced against an invisible wall. What had caused that to happen? “Are you immune to magic?”

  “What?” Leonid shook his head a few times. “No, I…” He leaned back to reach into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a rock that had crumbled to bits. He let the pieces fall to the floor. “I had this: your protection amulet.”

  I froze. The amulet… When did Leonid get it? Frantically, I thought back, and the pieces clicked together. After Aden had tried to force himself on me, I’d changed my clothes in Leonid’s room and left it on his dresser!

  “I’ve been holding on to it all this time.” He ducked his head, as if suddenly shy. “I knew it was yours, and… I wanted it.”

  Now was not the time to scold Leonid about keeping things that didn’t belong to him. Shaking my head, I said, “It came from Elyse. I thought it was a rock! I can’t believe it really worked! Does that mean Elyse knows how to use real magic?”

  “Not Elyse,” he mumbled, cutting through my rambles. Before I could ask what he meant, he turned his attention to my thigh. “I can’t believe that bastard stabbed you. I’m going to kill him!”

  I shook my head. “Not Bantheir. I did it. I stabbed myself.”

  Leonid paused to stare at me in astonishment.

  “He was trying to control me. With magic. When I discovered pain worked against the spell, I used the knife to break free, completely.” I watched as something shifted in Leonid’s expression and his eyes flickered away from mine. “You knew! You knew he had a hold over me!”

  “Irina, I—” He broke off with a shake of his head. “This isn’t the time for this discussion. We need to get out of here before Bantheir returns. But we can’t go anywhere until I remove the knife and wrap this wound up.” He put both hands on the hilt. “It’s going to hurt.” There was a deep despair in his eyes. I wondered if the thought of hurting me hurt hi
m.

  I nodded, scared. “Just do it. I’ll try not to scream too much.”

  He looked at me, lips twitching. “You can scream as much as you want.”

  Before I could answer, he yanked the knife out in one fluid moment. It hurt as much as it did going in, like the flesh on my thigh was being completely torn apart to expose the muscle and bones underneath. My screams echoed off the walls, and Leonid pulled me close as I shuddered with agony. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s not too bad.”

  “Liar,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

  Shucking off his coat, Leonid began unbuttoning his shirt. I averted my eyes quickly, my face growing hot. I heard a tearing noise and stifled a gasp of surprise as he began winding strips of his shirt around my thigh, tying the ends off tightly with a neat knot. I gritted my teeth as my leg throbbed in unison to my heartbeat, but I said nothing.

  Leonid put his coat back on. “Can you stand?”

  When I realized he was all set to leave the prison, my gaze flicked to Vernen, still lying on the bench. “What about—?”

  Leonid swallowed hard, agony written all over his face as he said, “We have to leave him.”

  “But—”

  “We don’t have a choice!” Leonid’s voice cracked and he looked away. “I’d want him to do the same if I was the one who’d di—” He broke off, shoulders shaking from the effort to keep his tears in check.

  “Leonid. At least—At least say goodbye.”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he was quiet for a moment. Then, he nodded to himself and went to his friend’s side to kneel before him. I watched, choking on my tears, as Leonid placed a hand over Vernen’s face to close his eyelids. “Goodbye, my friend. Your death won’t be in vain. I swear it.” He bent his head and closed his eyes. I looked away, certain I was trespassing on something incredibly private.

  When he returned, his perfect mask was back in place, although his eyes were shining brightly. “You’re the only thing that matters right now, Irina. Vernen understood that. He died doing what he had to.” Leonid helped me up, never letting go as I balanced myself first on my good leg, then both. “Come on. We have to leave.”